Throughout the remainder of my internship she groomed me into becoming a Peabody man. She was a demanding boss. I didn't consider myself a suck up, but she inspired me to work harder. I learned one day I had acquired a nickname, Pet. I was taken aback and asked my coworkers what I had done to earn the nickname.
They explained it wasn't anything I had done. They considered me the hardest working, most productive intern they had seen in several years. They just perceived Moira was overly protective of me and that I was her favorite, hence the nickname Pet.
On one hand, the nickname irritated me, but on the other I felt proud. She did look out for me, making sure I answered only to her. She saved me from getting work dumped on me by lazy coworkers and supervisors who had no qualms about taking advantage of cheap intern labor.
I asked if Moira knew about my nickname.
One of the more senior people to me, a big middle aged man named Bill who I also saw as a mentor, said, "Of course she knows. When she found out she smiled and said she was guilty as charged. She admitted to being overprotective, but said she needed to protect you from the wolves. I think she likes you."
I blushed and told Bill Moira's interest in me was strictly professional. As to her liking me it was how big sisters liked their little brothers. She was out of my league. Deep down I hoped it was true because I had a serious crush on her. She was what I was looking for in a woman. The age difference didn't bother me. I had been around people much older than her throughout school. The height difference didn't bother me. Her athleticism didn't bother me. Her self confidence, cockiness, intelligence, aggressiveness I considered pluses.
I worked even harder to make Moira prouder of me. I vowed to make my owner and Peabody LLC want to invite me back. We seldom interacted after work, but when we did it was almost always at company functions. She would have at her side arm candy, a tall, handsome, athletic, man. She seemed to change men frequently.
She really loved volleyball. I discovered I did too. I joined a team and found out I was good at it. I also started exercising. Towards the end of the summer and my internship the company had a picnic. It was hot. I was soon shirtless. She was on the opposite team. As always, she looked fantastic. She joked as she walked up to me, "Has my pet been working out?" She then reached out and plucked one of my chest hairs.
I said, "Ouch," more surprised than in pain.
She laughed but didn't explain why and I didn't pursue the matter. I figured what Bill had said was true. I wasn't about to blow it by making a scene. I also discovered she was pretty buzzed from all the beer and the sun.
The game was good even though my team lost. Moira was very dominating on the lot. She was hard to block. She had wicked serves. She excelled at blocking. I learned it was only one of a half dozen sports she excelled in. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. She would glance at me, but look away if I looked back.
Game ended. We all shook hands, grabbed more beers. She congratulated me for my effort, then reached out and plucked a second chest hair. This time she joked, "Now, I've taken all two of your chest hairs."
Her comment garnered quite a few laughs. I turned red in the face. It wasn't true, but compared to the other bare chested men I had almost no body hair.
She walked away to find her date. I studied her ass wondering what it would be like to have her buttocks in my hands. I was jealous of her date.
My internship ended, but my longing for Moira didn't. We parted ways with the same formality when we met. At the end of a staff meeting she took a few minutes to recognize me. My going away gifts were fitting, a ceramic red apple and a rather tasteful ceramic figurine of a tall fashionably dressed woman with her dog on a leash. I said a few words, thanked everyone for taking me under their wing and with providing me such a wonderful experience. I told Moira in front of the staff she was my first supervisor and any future supervisors would have big shoes to fill.
Moira let the office cut out of work early so they could take the intern out for a few beers. I was emptying the contents of my desk into a box when Moira came up to me. She said she was recommending me for a second internship. She gave me a card which she wanted me to open up later. She and I exchanged a rather awkward and quick hug.
I decided to make a joke of my nickname but to show how much I appreciated her, "I've really enjoyed being your pet."
She laughed and without skipping a beat said, "I've enjoyed owning you."
It wasn't until the next day I opened the card she gave me.
"Pet, I mean Pat (haha) or is it Pat, I mean Pet."
She wrote half a dozen sentences pointing out all I had done and how rewarding it was for her as a supervisor and role model to watch me transform into a Peabody man. She hoped I would come back for a second year.
Her closing line was especially poignant, "Your innocence I found refreshing. Stay innocent, Pet. Hoping to see you in the future."
She signed it, "Wishing for you great things. Love, Moira aka Teacher."
I read her card dozens of times trying to decide if it had a deeper meaning.
Absence only made me miss her more. Did she really love me? What did she mean by staying innocent? Was she asking me to save myself for her or was it to not let the financial products Peabody sold and its sales techniques jade me?
I thought about her a lot and many of those thoughts were sexual in nature. I was a virgin and was certain she wasn't. As I masturbated to thoughts of her other men's faces and bodies would invade and push me aside. I would climax to not what Moira and I were doing, but to what she was doing with other men. It aroused me, but it also made me ashamed, even perverted. After all what kind of man climaxes thinking about the woman he loves being fucked by another man?
